


Footsteps

by flower_child



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-3.10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:52:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4192782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flower_child/pseuds/flower_child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Delphine Cormier, and this is my unconditional surrender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“—Coma for three weeks—”_

_“—too much blood loss—”_

_“—possibly permanent brain damage—”_

_“—language function may be affected—”_

The words flitted around Delphine’s head like buzzing bees, always slightly out of reach.

It had been this way for several months…or maybe just a few minutes…she could never be sure. She would seem to float to consciousness for a moment, then sink again into the unknown.

Though, she was reasonably sure this was the most lucid she’d been.

She couldn’t open her eyes, and her extremities were completely numb. All she could feel other than a proprioceptive sense of herself was a dull pain in her abdomen. General anesthetic, she thought gravely.

From what?

The last thing she remembered was getting out of her car in the Dyad building’s parking garage and hearing footsteps…

 

Suddenly, she was jolted back in time.

_You won’t live till morning._

She’d set her purse down. Relishing the click of her heels, the pounding of her heart in her ears.

She turned.

She’d been wondering who neolution would send.

Ice seemed to fill her veins.

The woman she’d entrusted her life to.

“What will happen to her?” she’d asked.

Flitting in and out of her mind.

Were they going to let her bleed out?

She knew she had between fifteen and thirty minutes.

It hurt.

More than anything she’d experienced before.

Her nerve endings were screaming.

Or was that her?

She needed to let Cosima know…

Shay

She wasn’t safe.

She’d spent her life trying, trying, trying to keep Cosima safe.

She’d succeeded.

She’d made sure Cosima would be safe after…after she was gone.

She’d entrusted her life to the woman who had clicked her boots across the garage to shoot her.

She needed to warn Cosima.

But every time she moved, the edges of her vision seemed to fade more, the agony in her abdomen rivaling the war in her mind _._

Running footsteps.

Then nothing.

 

Her heart was racing, but she still couldn’t move. She had to be in a hospital—someone would come running soon to check her heartrate. But _where?_

All she knew was that she needed to get to Cosima.

 

People all around, speaking English.

“Is she conscious?”

“Dr. Cormier?” Someone was shaking her shoulders. She tried, tried, tried to open her eyes…but they wouldn’t budge.

“We need to lower her blood pressure.”

“Dr. Cormier, can you hear me?”

“Wait, remember what Dr. Duncan said about language function?”

_Dr. Duncan. Ethan…_

_No, Ethan was dead. She’d helped to autopsy the body._

“Okay, well who speaks French?”

They thought she couldn’t understand English anymore.

If only she could _open her eyes…_

“Dr. Cormier? _Pouvez-vous m’entendre?”_

Who was speaking? Yes, she could hear them. But she _needed_ to open her eyes. Give some indication.

With a surge of energy, Delphine forced her eyelids apart, and found herself staring into an old woman’s face.

“Dr. Cormier, _il faut que vous restiez calme.”_

She absolutely could _not_ remain calm. Doctors were all around her, staring nervously as the old woman spoke to her in French.

Delphine opened her lips and found her mouth incredibly dry. Hoarsely, she whispered, _“Qu’est-ce qui est passé? Où suis-je_ _?”_

Even though she knew perfectly well what happened. But she didn’t know where she was.

Wait…

Dr. Duncan.

Dr. _Susan_ Duncan?

She must be with—

“Neolution.”

 

From her short conversation with the evidently resurrected Susan Duncan, Delphine gleaned that she was at the Neolution base, that someone had retrieved her after her…shooting, and that she would be _completely safe here,_ in a comfortable research position.

On one condition.

 

Delphine caught her reflection for the first time in the glass walls of the hallway she was wheeled down. She was in a hospital gown, her hair unkempt. Her breath caught in her throat—her hair was curly. For the first time in months.

She was moved to what seemed to be a courtroom, completely dark with black stone walls. Faces gleamed from seats around the perimeter, glaring down at her defenseless position.

Voice shaking, nails digging into her skin, she uttered,

_“Mon nom est Delphine Cormier et ceci est mon reddition inconditionnelle.”_

_My name is Delphine Cormier, and this is my unconditional surrender._


	2. Chapter 2

“State your name and title.”

“Delphine Cormier, MD.”

“Birthplace.”

“Antony, France.”

“When did you first have sexual intercourse?”

“Nineteen.” Like she could forget.

“What is your sexual orientation?”

Delphine paused for a moment, not looking the probing doctors in the eye. “Bisexual.”

“Have you ever used birth control?”

“Oui.”

She was dressed in what could only be described as a prison uniform, with a black short-sleeved top and baggy pants. Doctors were poking and prodding her arms and torso, twice making her double over as they approached the wound in her abdomen. She glanced over to her left, where a young woman was trying to find a vein in her elbow.

She was surprised they had found a francophone doctor to examine her.

“You need to make a tourniquet,” she whispered as the needle punctured her arm to no avail for the fourth time. Of course, the woman did not understand French. She sighed and surrendered her elbow to the needle.

“Quiet, please,” a doctor snapped before continuing, “Have you ever had an abortion?”

“Non,” she said curtly.

“When was the last time you had sexual intercourse?”

Delphine thought for a moment. She’d been at Neolution for three weeks, so… “Six weeks ago.” She almost shuddered at the memory.

“Have you ever traveled outside of the continent?”

What continent was she on again? “Oui.”

“Have you ever contracted a parasite?”

“Non.”

“Tropical diseases?”

“Non.”

“That will be all for today, Dr. Cormier. Professor Duncan will show you to your new lab later today.”

_If I’m your new researcher, why am I being treated like a prisoner? Like an experiment?_ “Merci.”

Two guards pulled Delphine to a standing position by her elbows and led her out of the blindingly bright examination room.

She flinched as one touched the crook of her arm, but all it accomplished was to make the grip on her forearm even tighter.

Hallways with mirrors lining the walls.

Doctors passing in blurs.

Where on earth was she?

A door opening into a hospital room.

“Professor Duncan will be by later,” one of the guards said as she was released into the room. Maybe he wasn’t informed that she didn’t speak English anymore.

Delphine swallowed and rubbed at her arms, feeling goosebumps rising to her neck. She felt each place she’d been poked and prodded with cold precision, like the rubber gloved fingers were still there. Each invasive question they’d asked was like a claw in her head, digging in, threatening to break the skin.

_Her sexual orientation._

_Her sexual history._

_Her last sexual experience._

Delphine coughed, clutching at her stomach, almost gagging at the recollection of her last time.

_She’d been crying at her desk, late at night, unable to go home to that cold, unwelcoming apartment. She was done with meetings for the day and was trying to catch up on her monitor work. The work that had previously been the highlight of her life was now borderline torture. Cosima…happy. Cosima…dating a different woman._

_She shut the laptop with surprising force, even to herself. Her fingers shook as they shoved the photographs back into the envelope, throwing them into the drawer._

_“Merde,” she’d hissed as a tear skidded down her cheek, wiping it off hastily even though there was no one there to see._

_High heeled footsteps crossed the threshold of her office, and Delphine had looked up to see Marion Bowles._

_“Cosima business?” she’d asked._

_The older woman had always been able to read Delphine like the pages of the files she clung so hard to. She hated it._

_“Just…finishing up. I was going to head out soon,” Delphine had said hastily, trying not to let her voice betray her._

_Marion had shaken her head. “Delphine, you need to move on from Cosima. It’s just distracting your work at this point.”_

_Delphine paused for a moment, considering what to say. The truth? Of course not. She cleared her throat. “I’ve found someone.”_

_Marion’s eyebrows had risen, obviously surprised. “Really? Who?”_

_“Henry McGowan. You met him at the Dyad dinner in March.” The lies slipped more easily from her tongue as her time as director moved forward._

_“Nice man.”_

_“I’m seeing him tonight.”_

_The corners of Marion’s mouth had twitched into something some might call a smile. Delphine knew better._

_“I’ll get out of your way, then.”_

_Delphine had nodded curtly._

_It’s so I can help Cosima, Delphine told herself as unfamiliar fingers slid down her skin. I won’t be distracted anymore if I can just—_

_Her stomach lurched as those horrible fingers wandered nearer to breasts through her shirt. She opened her eyes to the man kissing her neck, and her heart started pounding. Not in arousal. Not in excitement._

_In pure dread._

_Henry’s hands flitted to the hem of her blouse and she allowed him to lift it over her head. His fingers had pulled clumsily at the clasp of her bra, and eventually—like with all men she’d been with—Delphine had to reach around and undo it herself._

_She returned her hands to Henry’s body, pulling off his shirt with a false gasp. Better get this over with quickly._

_She bit her lip as Henry’s hands ventured to her zipper—she’d have to be aroused for this to go further. She’d read about people just thinking about previous partners, so, running her tongue across her teeth, Delphine thought of Cosima._

_She suddenly doubled over, filled with the most intense longing she’d ever experienced. It seemed to course through her, a wanting—no, a needing—of Cosima’s soft hands on her skin, her beautiful eyes meeting hers._

_“Delphine?”_

_Of course. She was still with Henry._

_“Delphine, baby, what’s wrong?” Of course. He was worried about her._

_She cringed at being called ‘baby.’_

_“S-sorry, Henry,” she said hurriedly. “Just, um, cramps. Sorry.”_

_“Do you want to stop?”_

_“N-no,” she stuttered. Her mind screamed ‘Yes!’_

_It’s for Cosima, she told herself as she returned her lips to Henry's and allowed him to undo her pants. All for Cosima._


	3. Chapter 3

“Cosima, your phone’s ringing.”

A muffled response that might’ve been, “Give it to me,” came from a lump in a fluffy white sweater on the couch.

Cosima stretched out her hand from her face-down position and felt someone drop the ringing menace into it. She turned her head just enough to see if she recognized the number—out of town. Maybe even out of the country…

She sighed. “Helloo?”

 _“Oh, mon dieu, c’est merveilleuse d’entendre ta voix, ma Cosima…”_ A breathless voice spoke in rapid French from the other side of the line.

A voice Cosima would know anywhere.

She sat up so fast it made her head spin, heart suddenly beating a mile a minute.

 _“Delphine?”_ Her voice was no more than a whisper. She couldn’t believe it.  
Delphine…Delphine was dead.

The entire apartment fell silent, three pairs of eyes trained on Cosima, who had turned very pale.

“Yes, Cosima, it’s me. This is the first chance I’ve had to call, they’re keeping a very close watch on me…You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear you…”

Delphine was whispering, but Cosima could tell she was trying not to cry.

Tears were welling in her own eyes. Her Delphine. Her Delphine was…alive. Impossible. “Holy shit, Delphine, I thought—Oh my god, I can’t—”

“ _Shh, ma petite chou_ , we do not have much time.”

“Delphine, where are you?”

“I do not know exactly,” Delphine said hurriedly, voice clearing as she tried to relay the message. “I am with the Neolutionists. They took me away after I was shot. They think I only speak French, okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve got it.” Cosima’s fingers shook violently, but she grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down every word Delphine spoke. “I’ll find you, Delphine.”

“I know, my love. I will see you soon.”

Cosima opened her mouth, but no words came out. It was enough to know she was there, on the other side.

“They are coming, Cosima,” Delphine whispered after a moment.

Cosima’s lungs constricted—she didn’t want to say goodbye so soon. “Okay, stay safe, Delphine. I love you.”

_“Je_ _t’aime, aussi. A bientôt, mon amour.”_

 

Cosima hung up the phone in utter disbelief.

Sarah was the first to find words. “Delphine’s…alive?”

“Y-yeah, unless that was, like, a fucking ghost or something.” Cosima felt a lump forming in her throat, tightening her voice and forcing tears from her eyes.

“Cos, that’s…” Sarah hurried over and wrapped her arms around the sniffling Cosima.

“She’s, um, she’s with the Neolutionists. They took her after she…um, after—”

“We’ll find her,” Felix said reassuringly, and Alison nodded as the two also enveloped Cosima in their arms.

 

“It’s just crazy to find out that she’s _alive_ after, you know, three weeks of trying to come to terms with her being dead.”

Thinking about Delphine being gone still brought Cosima to the verge of tears, and now, finding out that she wasn’t dead after all was like someone had attached wings to her back.

The amount of times she’d called Delphine just to hear her voicemail.

The sobs that had racked through her body when she heard that automated message:

_The number you have reached has been disconnected._

Between herself and the outside.

Between the war in her mind and the words she could use to express it.

Between herself and Delphine.

It was like all the pieces connected again.

“Cosima? Are you listening to me?”

“What?”

She, Sarah, and Art were sitting at Felix’s kitchen table—they’d realized rather early on in their investigations that they had absolutely nowhere to begin looking, so they’d called the detective.

After an hour, it was clear they were getting nowhere. The number Delphine had used had proved untraceable, and the air of hopelessness was growing in the room.

Sarah and Art exchanged a glance before the former continued, “Well, Delphine would have been our go-to person for inside info, so we need another way to locate the Neolution base.”

Still in the process of regaining her usual wit, Cosima replied slowly, “What about Mrs. S? She located Castor headquarters, right?”

Sarah shook her head. “Mainly with Paul’s help.” She paused for a moment, apparently thinking, before continuing, “Delphine told me that Neolution has Rachel. So we can—”

“Really?” Cosima interrupted. “When did she tell you that?”

“Oh, when she called me to warn me about the Neolutionists after Nealon attacked her—”

“Nealon, _what?!_ Why did nobody tell me this? My girlfriend gets _attacked,_ and even _she_ doesn’t bother to let me know?”

Nobody stopped to question Cosima’s use of the relationship label.

“Cos, it was all happening at once. I guess it just…slipped through the cracks.” Sarah put a comforting hand on Cosima’s arm, but the recipient of the gesture snatched it away.

“If I had known about this, I could’ve realized something was wrong. And we wouldn’t _be in this mess!”_ Cosima felt anger boiling up, seeping out through her skin and making her flush.

“Cosima, we’re all just trying to find Delphine,” Art said quietly. “We’re trying to help.”

Cosima shook her head, dreads flying. “God, you people! Delphine risks her life for _months_ for all of you and now the best you can do is tell me that her life _slipped through the cracks?!_ And here she is, at the Neolution base and we have absolutely no way to find her.”

She seized her coat and threw it over herself before stalking out of the apartment, completely ignoring the shouts of protest behind her.

As she slammed the door behind her, Cosima heard Art say to Sarah, “Let her go.”

 

Cosima walked aimlessly for several blocks, blowing off steam and blasting music into her ears. It was only when she had to pause to wait for the light to change to cross the street did she realize where her feet had taken her: right outside Delphine’s apartment building.

She’d made the trek many times before, after getting frustrated cooped up in Felix’s apartment all those months ago. She realized, however, that she hadn’t been to Delphine’s apartment since they’d…broken things off. She didn’t even know if Delphine still lived there.

 _Worth a shot,_ she thought, shouldering the door open against the brittle cold.

“Hey, Cosima,” the doorman said, putting down a magazine. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Frank,” she grinned, hurrying over to the desk. “Is it alright if I just go up?”

Frank nodded with a wink, and Cosima all but skipped to the elevator.

She was surprised to find that her insides were twisting and turning at the prospect of seeing Delphine’s apartment again. It had been so long...and Cosima had never come back to get some of her things, angry more than anything. Would she have kept them around?

Her heart was pounding by the time she reached apartment 603. She pulled out her key ring with shaking fingers, remembering that she’d never given the key back to Delphine. She slid it into the door, swallowing hard.

Cosima’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what she’d expected—the place to be ransacked? Exactly the same as the last time she’d been there?

It was pristine.

Almost un-lived in.

Wary of other guests in the house, Cosima tiptoed around, but found no one.

The kitchen was clean, all dishes washed and put away neatly in the cabinets. Her fridge was almost empty; a few takeout containers and wine bottles were all that was left. A singular knife remained in the block. Cosima didn’t want to think about where the others might be.

What situations Delphine might have found herself in.

A few blankets lay folded on the couch, but one was laid across as though someone had been using it.

Cosima’s heart dropped to her knees as she immediately recognized it.

She’d crocheted it for Delphine for Christmas.

Finding some sort of resilience, Cosima ventured into the last room—Delphine’s bedroom.

The bed was made. All Delphine’s clothes were hanging in the closet. Her new clothes took precedence, with her older, more colorful style shoved to the back.

Searching through the closet, Cosima found the sweater Delphine had worn so often it had holes, pushed to the far reaches of the closet.

She hugged it, smelled it, trying to take herself back, back, back to the beginning…

She knew that memories were stronger when linked to more senses.

Delphine’s old perfume.

Lying in her bed, that very scent enveloping the two of them. Talking about the future, like Cosima wasn’t dying and Delphine didn’t have threats made daily on her life. Their life in Paris together, how Delphine’s parents would react when they met Cosima…

Anger rose again suddenly in Cosima’s chest.

Her Delphine, her beautiful, loving Delphine.

Forced to live alone on takeout.

Forced to keep _knives_ around to protect herself.

Forced to learn to shoot and negotiate and pull the wool over the eyes of people who could have her dead in a second.

Forced to hide.

To stay brave.

Never to falter.

“ _AND FOR WHAT?!”_ Cosima screamed, suddenly unable to control herself. She snatched the lamp off the bedside table and threw it across the room. Her quaking hands ripped Delphine’s clothes from the hangers, the armor she’d put up against the world.

She fell down into the pile of silk and polyester, sobbing.

_For me. She did it all for me._

_And I can’t do anything for her._


	4. Chapter 4

“Dr. Cormier, you’re—”

“Yes,” the standing woman sighed, shaking her curly head.

Even while still adjusting to her new enhanced eye mechanism, Rachel could tell that the doctor was tired. Defeated. Certainly not the authoritative figure who’d so easily tortured her only months ago.

“I wasn’t informed you would be here.” Rachel maneuvered her chair further into her rooms, waving a hand to allow Delphine entrance.

The blonde doctor chuckled slightly and crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Nor was I. But, Rachel, I have some questions—”

Rachel snapped her head around. _“Not here,”_ she hissed. Was she _trying_ to get them punished? “And furthermore, even if I did have answers, what makes you think that I would give them to _you,_ Delphine?”

She could tell that her use of the woman’s first name had the desired effect—she recoiled almost imperceptibly, and Rachel watched as the walls erected around her once more. Where Delphine had previously been, the perfectly composed Dr. Cormier stood in her place.

Good. Exactly the level Rachel could play on.

“Meet me here in an hour. The guards change at six, so be on time.”

 

Delphine walked quickly away from Rachel’s rooms, mind reeling from the encounter. Of course, it had been stupid to expect help from the clone. Idiotic. And now she knew she spoke English. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

“Dr. Cormier!”

Delphine turned, careful to leave the façade standing. “Professor Duncan! _Je n’ai pas attendu que vous soyez ici.”_

In her surprise, it wasn’t hard to switch back into French, and in any case, her words were true—she _didn’t_ expect to see the Professor. A panic spread through her; what had Duncan heard?

Then: “ _Marchons, non?”_

And so they walked, Delphine on edge, Duncan steering her through the ancient-looking hallways to her office. They discussed this and that, careful to keep formalities up. Was-she-comfortable-in-her-new-lab? Why-of-course-Professor-Duncan. I-am-so-excited-to-work-with—

As soon as they stepped foot in the blindingly bright space, Duncan’s face lost the softness Delphine had become accustomed to seeing.

“Let’s drop the act, Dr. Cormier.”

Delphine didn’t immediately register the switch back into English, but, without thinking, she responded likewise. “I don’t—”

“That’s what I thought. Sit.” Duncan gestured to a chair in front of her desk.

Delphine pursed her lips, mind working quickly. “I think I will stand, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Please sit.”Duncan stepped forward, tone remaining balanced. However, something seemed to light in her eyes as she approached Delphine.

“Professor Duncan, what are you—”

Suddenly, the older woman’s hands were around Delphine’s waist, the knuckle of her thumb digging into the wound on her right.

Delphine cried out, trying to force Duncan from her, but the professor would not release.

_“Sit,”_ she commanded, circling the wound and forcing tears from Delphine’s eyes.

_“_ _Arrêtez, s’il vous plait,”_ Delphine cried, tumbling into the chair. Still the woman refused to release her.

The pain was building. The edges of her vision were blurring. She wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer…

“You’ve been _quite_ the challenge, Delphine,” Duncan hissed, breath hot against Delphine’s throbbing skin. “Aldous was always easier to control, but _you…_ All those secret deals, sneaking around, all for that _clone._ It was enthralling to see just _how far you’d go.”_

Duncan punctuated her words with sharp jabs to Delphine’s body, seeming to enjoy the writhing form beneath her.

Delphine’s vision was darkening, surely it most stop _eventually. Surely…_

“For _Cosima,_ no?”

Delphine was suddenly jerked back to reality. Agony still coursed through her body, but it was like adrenaline was clearing her thoughts. _“Cosima,”_ she breathed, voice ragged but audible.

Then the pressure stopped.

Duncan had let go.

Delphine whimpered, clutching her abdomen, tears still streaming down her face.

Duncan had returned to her desk, and was shuffling papers. “Do forgive me, Dr. Cormier. A little _persuasion_ is usually the best way to find out where our guests’ loyalties lie.” The older woman looked at her watch before continuing, “I’d better let you get going. You do have a meeting with Ms. Duncan, no? Don’t get up to too much trouble.”


	5. Chapter 5

Delphine stared at the woman for a moment, twisting her contorted features from excruciation to professionalism.

Lord knows she’s had practice with that.

 “Thank you for your time, Professor Duncan,” she said, voice inexplicably even.

She managed to compose herself until she’d left the office, but collapsed against the wall halfway down the corridor, clutching at her abdomen. It was pain unlike anything she’d experienced, like Duncan’s icy fingers were still pressing, pulsing, kneading into her wound. Shockwaves were emanating from the site, making her heart pound. She shoved her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out. She just had to make it back to Rachel’s room…

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Three pairs of accusing eyes darted to Cosima as she opened the door of the loft.

She immediately felt a pang of guilt—Art was still there.

“Hey, guys, um, I’m sorry for, uh, walking out earlier…” she stuttered, sliding the door shut behind her.

Sarah cocked her head. “It’s alright, Cos. We know this is tough.”

Cosima sighed heavily, dropping her bag and coat by the sofa. “I, uh, went to Delphine’s.”

“Yeah, we figured,” Felix said, tracing the rim of his coffee cup to avoid looking at Cosima.

Glancing from one to the other of the eyes turned away from her, Cosima set her jaw and continued, “Yeah, and I think she knew there was gonna be an attempt on her life.”

“And?” Art’s tone was unnaturally cool.

 _“And,_ all of her stuff was in order. Nothing in the fridge that could go bad, everything was tidy. Like she wasn’t planning on coming back.”

There was silence for a moment.

Cosima gave an exasperated sigh. “Guys, what’s going on?”

Art, Sarah, and Felix shared a few seconds of significant glances before Cosima snapped her fingers. “Hello?”

“Rachel called,” Sarah said, looking right at Cosima. “Neolution knows you were in contact with Delphine.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

“Dr. Cormier, you made it.”

Delphine leaned against the wall, staring at Rachel, whose back was turned.

“What does Duncan want?”

Rachel shrugged, turning her chair to face Delphine from across the dimly lit chamber. “In short?”

Delphine gave a dry chuckle. “In whatever form will make me understand.”

She knew well the game they were both playing—Delphine Cormier and Rachel Duncan: Dyad’s carefully manicured masters of deception and lies. Reveal just as much as will get you the truth. Never make your endgame clear.

“Nealon was right, you know. You need to shift your frame. You’ll never understand when you’re _blinded.”_

Delphine’s mind worked quickly—something was definitely off. Why would Rachel be…

A stone dropped to the pit of her stomach.

She hurried forward and crouched down, still out of Rachel’s reach…but convincingly close. She spoke softly and quickly, “What have they promised you, Rachel?”

Uneven footsteps suddenly filled the corridor, clanging into Rachel’s chamber.

Rachel looked over Delphine’s shoulder. “Charlotte, darling. You haven’t met Dr. Cormier.”

“A child,” Delphine breathed. A miniature Cosima stood in the doorway, a brace tethering her right leg together. Of course they’d promised Rachel a child…

Delphine remembered words spoken to her just minutes earlier:

_A little persuasion is usually the best way to find out where our guests’ loyalties lie._

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

Cosima clutched the chair in front of her. “What did Rachel say?” she breathed.

Sarah bit her lip. “She…she says she doesn’t trust the Neolutionists either. She gave us their location and…it looks like it checks out.”

Something jolted in Cosima’s stomach. “There’s…a catch, isn’t there?”

“She says that, um, Delphine doesn’t have much time left.”

 _“What?”_ It was like someone was pulling at each of her limbs, trying to separate it from her body. “I—I talked to her four hours ago. She’s fine.”

“That’s not what Sarah means, Cosima,” Art said cautiously.

Cosima’s voice came out as a squeak as the realization hit her, _“They’re going to kill her?”_

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Rachel will do anything to get Kira. She just wants the kid, I don’t know, it’s really fucked up._

It had been a regular day in the lab—sunny, as Delphine recalled—and Cosima had been lying across Delphine’s lap, coffee in her hands, regaling her of all of her sisters’ lives before she’d met Delphine. She couldn’t help but memorize every word coming out of those beautiful lips…

The lips that were no longer hers.

They would never again brush lightly against Delphine’s hands or profess their love to her lips.

Because Rachel Duncan was going to kill her.

_She’ll do anything for a child._

Delphine swallowed hard against the memories, forcing tears back from the brink. “Rachel, we can get you out of here, get you somewhere safe.”

At this, Rachel actually laughed. “And who will that be? Dr. Cormier, you forget. You’re a dead woman.”

“As are you,” Delphine said coolly.

Of course she’d assumed that Dyad had proclaimed her dead, but Rachel’s words held greater meaning than five minutes before.

“I’m bait, aren’t I?”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I don’t care if it’s a trap, Sarah!” Cosima shouted, panic rising in her as the minutes crept by.

“Cosima, we need to think about this. Listen to me—”

“No, you listen. If this was Kira, we’d be there by now. There would be no question. But since it’s Delphine? You don’t give a shit. I know you don’t.” The words were meant to sting, and Cosima felt horrible pleasure as she saw that they did.

“Cosima, it’s different—” Sarah reached for Cosima’s arm, but the latter wrenched it away.

“Oh yeah, I _forgot._ Kira’s _special,_ we need to protect her! Yeah, well, Delphine has been saving our lives from the fucking beginning, Sarah. Even when I was being a spiteful, jealous, vindictive _bitch_ she still sacrificed _everything_ for me, and I don’t care if it’s a trap, I need to at least try, do you understand that?”

Tears were rolling down Cosima’s cheeks as she spat out the last sentence, sobbing like a child. This time she didn’t throw off Sarah’s touch as her sister wrapped her arms around her quaking body.

“You really love her, don’t you?” she whispered. “Let’s go get her, Cosima.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

“My sisters will be here soon, at which point you will be dead.” Rachel spoke the words as casually as if Delphine had asked the time.

Delphine tried to swallow, but found her mouth suddenly dry. “Why? You’ve kept me alive this long.”

Rachel shrugged again, immersed in a hand game with Charlotte. Clapping sounds filled the chamber as she replied, “I don’t ask more than I need to know.”

There was a time not long ago when Delphine would have broken down, begging for her life. But, as Marion had said in Frankfurt, _show your hand, Delphine, and you’re as good as dead._

Little did she know that the only hand she wanted was Cosima’s, her touch her only reason to continue breathing.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Damn, I didn’t realize cops had access to helicopters,” Cosima said fifteen minutes later, boarding the roaring aircraft with Sarah and Art.

The latter shrugged and shouted in reply, “I thought we might be making a trip…Called my buddy an hour ago.”

Cosima could almost feel her heart rattling around in its cavity as the helicopter took off for a small island off the coast of Nova Scotia. It would be about an hour’s flight—she just hoped they would get there…in time.

She played absently with her scarf, occasionally feeling Sarah’s hand on her knee, reassurance that it would be alright.

Her thoughts strayed to how much Delphine loved this scarf, spending hours playing with the baubles as they talked about God knows what.

Cosima brought the colorful fringe to her nose and was suddenly jolted back in time.

After she’d collapsed in the lab, bleeding and seizing, they’d decided she needed constant medical care, but what hospital could they bring her to? She remembered Delphine’s small voice in that room full of important people, volunteering to care for her as her doctor. The important people pretended not to see the tears still in her eyes.

That night, Cosima had woken up in a hospital bed to long arms clasped around her, a warm frame blanketed around her back.

“Delphine?” she’d croaked, turning her head.

The form behind her had jolted awake, immediately sitting up and reaching to check Cosima’s pulse on her neck.

“Hey, hey, I’m fine.” Cosima had taken her hand and stroked it softly, pulling Delphine back to lay with her again.

Cosima remembered Delphine’s scent as she’d pressed kisses to the back of her neck, listening to Cosima talk about the universe and their place in it.

That had been before.

Before…

 

“Cos?”

A hand gently shook her knee, and Cosima awoke to find her head bumping against Sarah’s bony shoulder.

“Cos, we’re landing.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

A full ten minutes passed without Rachel so much as glancing at Delphine, immersed in games with her new daughter. Delphine eyed the door, locked after Charlotte’s entrance.

If Charlotte was here, where was Marion?

Come to think of it, Delphine hadn’t seen her since the night of her…encounter with Henry.

Soon, as they always did, Delphine’s thoughts strayed to Cosima.

How differently her life had turned out than she’d imagined.

She was supposed to be a pretty French doctor, who married a handsome French lawyer, and they would have beautiful babies and make lots of money and Maman could brag about her to her friends. It wasn’t like a novel, where Delphine had felt a craving in her soul for something larger. But when the opportunity arose to work at Dyad…

Oh, how Leekie had charmed her. Made her feel like she was smart and imaginative.

Had it all been part of an orchestrated plan?

No, she decided. No, because you can’t predict falling in love.

And oh, how she’d fallen.

She’d fallen harder and more completely than she’d ever thought possible.

It was the kind of love you’d only find in the old Eric Rohmer movies she’d loved as a teenager, but it was real. So terrifyingly real that she was fully prepared to give her life for this woman. Impossible.

And now they were using that love to get to the clones…for whatever unethical means they’d divined.

She almost scoffed at herself. Unethical. Six months ago she was a eugenicist. Talk about unethical…

 

“Dr. Cormier, do you have the time?”

Delphine was jolted out of her reverie to find herself sitting against the bare stone wall. Waiting for her execution.

She raised an eyebrow. “No, you people took my watch.”

“Mm,” Rachel hummed, patting Charlotte on the head. “Mummy’s darling, can you check to see if they’re ready?”

After the young girl skidded out of sight, Delphine drew her knees to her chest. “So, Rachel, how’s this going to work? You’re going to guillotine me?”

Delphine almost laughed at how ridiculously French the word sounded. She missed speaking in the beautiful tongue.

Rachel didn’t reply, evidently absorbed in something fascinating on her hand.

 

A few seconds later, Charlotte came shuffling back into view. “Professor Duncan is ready, Mummy.”

“Come, Dr. Cormier.” Rachel began maneuvering her chair to the exit. When Delphine didn’t move, she continued, “Don’t worry, it will probably be painless.”

“I envy your bedside manner,” Delphine mumbled, struggling to lift herself off the floor.

Her own wasn’t much better, she thought with an internal laugh. Too clinical, she’d always been told.

 

After following Rachel at a hideously slow pace, Delphine found herself in the examination room she’d been in a few days previously. It appeared that Duncan was the only one there, standing next to a chair and a cart with what looked like syringes.

Lethal injection.

Rachel and Charlotte didn’t follow her in.

Only now did the idea of death really sink in. She’d thought she was prepared to die when Shay shot her, but as that bullet pierced her, drawing her very life force away, she knew she still needed to live. It had almost been like some force was keeping her here—though she knew not what.

The voice in the back of her head said it was Cosima.

She wanted to believe it.

But Cosima wasn’t coming.

How could she know where she was?

The hardest thing was knowing that those incredible eyes would never again bore holes right through her defenses, those beautiful fingers would never trace lovely patterns in her mind.

She’d allowed Cosima to be lured here, and they were going to kill her.

She suddenly realized with a gasp. _They knew I would call Cosima._

 

Delphine remembered counting on love only once before.

She’d promised Cosima to protect her sisters, so she’d gambled that Sarah would play her part to save Helena. It had worked.

Professor Duncan had gambled on Delphine…and she’d played right into her hands. As had Rachel, Delphine realized quickly after.

Duncan had given her what she wanted most.

A child.

  1.   
The perfect leverage.



 

“Please, take a seat Dr. Cormier.”

She didn’t know why she obeyed.

Was it because death was breathing down her neck?

Surely it had better things to be doing.

 _Shoo,_ she tried to tell it.

Death was persistent.

“Close your eyes if you like,” Duncan said, lifting the syringe.

She obeyed.

She’d always been a bit of a coward.

 

The tip of the needle touched the bare skin of her neck.

Her veins were suddenly screaming, her heart pounding, determined to beat a lifetime’s beats in the next few seconds.

A gunshot.

The needle was jerked away as Delphine’s entire body convulsed at the horrible sound.

She looked up, eyes opening of their own accord.

_C o s i m a._

_“Delphine.”_

Running footsteps.

She was enveloped in the smell of roses and marijuana and home and love and _Cosima._

Warmth reached her extremities as she cupped them around the woman’s face. She felt her pulse and never felt more alive.

Delphine held her at a distance for a moment, their eyes meeting like never before.

She saw the universe in those brown eyes.

She felt Cosima’s soft lips kissing away tears she didn’t even know were falling.

_“Ma belle Cosima, viens ici…”_

“I’m here, Delphine, I’m here.”

She realized Cosima was also crying.

“My God, I love you.”

The beautiful lips on hers felt finally like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, I really really appreciate all of your feedback and comments. I really hope you liked the last chapter, and def hit me up on tumblr at sonless-mumford :)


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